


End of Modern Day Gomorrah

by ForgottenLannister



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 15:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19907929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenLannister/pseuds/ForgottenLannister
Summary: Movie stars, music Gods, models, anyone who was anyone had flocked to the modern-day Gomorrah; and just like that, Studio 54 was written into history.





	End of Modern Day Gomorrah

His fucking head pounded along with the irritating beat of the music. It did every night he came here, since opening night almost 3 years before. His father had purchased the old theatre and plumbed enough money into it to turn it into the sensation it was. Jaime hadn’t understood it and fully expected it to fail. He could clearly remember the smugness he felt when the doors opened and only a small trickle of people had filed in, their faces confused and seemingly unimpressed that a supposed nightclub was so well lit. His smugness had evaporated as the night wore on, as word seemed to reach the bold and beautiful of the newest hotspot. By midnight you couldn’t move for the throngs of people on the floor and bodies covering every available seat, the rich and famous now exclaiming with delight over the abstract lighting, the theatre props and not forgetting the giant Man in the Moon over the dancefloor. The madness had only continued outside; a swarm of people, easily 20 or 30 layers deep was clamouring to get inside, to see what Tywin Lannister had created this time. An otherwise well to do Doctor had been overly generous in the crowd and dispensed a bottle of Quaaludes. Jaime had watched, caught somewhere between disbelief and abhorrence as their small section of the New York street had descended into what could only be described as an orgy. Tits and dicks were exposed everywhere he looked; people grabbing and fondling brazenly on the sidewalk. Some of Broadway’s more vanilla inhabitants had found the scene too sordid and left early, but this only served to allow the more debauched revellers inside and there the party continued. Tywin was on hand all night, dispensing free drinks to the elite and pointing them in the direction of his men who could get them any recreational substance they required. The police had been called to the street, but the party still swung inside. Movie stars, music Gods, models, anyone who was anyone had flocked to the modern-day Gomorrah; and just like that, Studio 54 was written into history.

And now it was all to end. He had truly believed that this place could withstand anything, however much he wanted it to fail. In its short 3 years the club had been raided more times than he could count, had been plastered all over the papers; branded as a den of inequity. There had been shootings, stabbings and a determined party goer had even died trying to make his way inside through the air vents after being refused entry. Even temporarily shutting down and being forced to reopen without a liquor licence had done nothing to quell the popularity of the club. Each hurdle had only made Tywin laugh harder as it gained him more publicity without him having to shell out a cent, every obstacle placed in his way had only served to strengthen the curiosity of the clientele and guaranteed they were bursting at capacity every night. After everything his father had overcome to keep this place rolling he had well and truly let his greed fuck it up. The police and the governors had long had it out for the Lannisters and had looked for any excuse to wipe them from New York; Tywin had handed them their fucking smoking gun when the IRS found him skimming off the top. He had created a mess even he couldn’t get out of and was to be jailed in the coming weeks.

Which is how Jaime found himself here, in one of the only darkened corners of the club, high on a balcony, watching his Father being serenaded by Motown and Broadway royalty as the other patrons performed their usual debasements around him. Studio 54 was closing its doors for good, this was the club and Tywin’s farewell party and Jaime could practically choke on the hypocrisy of it all. He closed his eyes tight and ran a hand through his gilded hair, trying to block the insidious noise some called music. People were saying the death of Studio 54 meant the death of Disco and he, for one, wished it would just hurry up and fucking die already. There was not one aspect of this place he could claim to like; he hated the music, he hated the lighting, he hated the way the crowds would try and out-do each other in their lascivious acts. Most of all he hated what it did to her.

His sister was the only reason he made himself enter the premises, she loved it here. Cersei bought into the hype and exclusivity and was as much a part of the club as the golden numbers which hung outside. When it had opened she was its crowning glory; the darling of Studio 54. She had been the one everyone wanted to be seen with, photographed with; making it into the club was one thing but making it into her inner sanctum was quite another. Cersei was responsible for nights that would go down as Studio legends; it was she who had a horse shipped in from their California home on the Casterly Hills, for a debutante to ride around the dancefloor on her birthday. It was she who had presented a trash can full of dollar bills to a notoriously stoic artist, tipping it over his head to rapturous laughter. Jaime had been happy at first; to see her shine, to see her come into her own and have the attention she craved and rightly deserved. As the months wore on, however, any happiness was depleted when he saw the toll the lifestyle was taking on her.

Cersei had always been a beauty, she still was, but the light was gone. The hedonistic ways she succumbed to within these walls was turning her into a shell. The short shift dresses she wore hung loosely on her tiny frame; bones jutting where there were once womanly curves he loved to feel glide under his hands. Her once natural face he could gaze upon for eternity was now always hidden with make up as she tried to disguise the shadows under her eyes and the red around her nose, the result of her taking any substance she could get her hands on to keep up with those in attendance. Her eyes, God her eyes, he thought as he squeezed his own shut again; the once vibrant green now dull and glazed from too much alcohol and cocaine and not enough rest and rehabilitation. The things he had seen her let people do to her; touch her, fuck her, use her, all right under his nose. He wanted to tear each one of them limb from limb; for defiling her, humiliating her in a way she couldn’t even see because she was too high off whatever cocktail she had in her system that night, for touching what was rightfully his. 

Sickened by the memories he forced his eyes back to his Father; his anger and resentment at him, for creating the hell that claimed his twin as its own, was acid in his stomach. He seethed as he watched his Father lap up the adulation of the sycophants surrounding him. Parasites.

“He’ll be gone soon…it all will.”

Jaime felt a glass being pushed in his hand and looked down to find the source of the voice. “Have you seen her?” He asked his younger brother, the man staring down to where he had been looking moments before. Hating their Father even more than he did right now. 

Tyrion looked into his glass, swilling the contents before downing them, inhaling sharply at the strength of it. “Yes.” He answered simply, feeling his brother’s eyes boring into the side of his head, looking for elaboration.

“And!?” He pressed with urgency.

His little brother would still not deign him with a look as he answered. “You have to get her away from here Jaime.”

Jaime was unnerved by the solemnity in Tyrion’s voice. Usually when the man remarked on his sister’s state it was in a jovial, almost uncaring manner; She’s as loaded as a Baratheon at a buffet, She’s got more Snow in her than all the whores in the North, She’s so out of it she hugged me….me, Jaime!

He tried to downplay the worry he felt constricting his chest. “This is closing night, tomorr-”

“Not the club Jaime. Here. New York. You need to take her, and you need to go. Otherwise she will die right alongside this place. You have control over all Father’s assets whilst he is incarcerated. Even after repaying the money the greedy cunt stole and paying his fines there is ample left for you to disappear and start somewhere new. Somewhere no one knows either of you and where she is far from the reach of the poisonous little leeches who are taking such joy in dragging her down with them.”

“Since when do you care?” There was no malice in the tone, just general curiosity. Cersei had always made it known to all and sundry how she despised the youngest Lannister and grudged him every lungful of air he breathed, and Tyrion’s feelings towards her were only marginally warmer. 

Tyrion finally looked at his brother. “I love you. You love her. If she dies, you die. Ergo, I care.”

The singing in the centre of the room had stopped and was being met with thunderous applause and catcalls. “Where is she, Tyrion?”

“Upstairs.”

Jaime’s face blanched in disgust. Upstairs held what had informally become known as ‘The Rubber Room’: every surface was wipe clean and it was where the party moved to when the desires of the members were more wanton than could be shared openly in the main body of the club; which didn’t leave a lot. Tyrion felt his heart break for his brother as he knew his mind was torturing him with countless scenarios of his love being taken and used. “She wasn’t in there.” He continued, offering Jaime some relief. “But she was taking enough coke that I can’t truly say that’s not where she’ll end up.”

Jaime drained the last of his glass and made a move to the stairs leading to the floor above. Just as he did, the golden glint he loved so much caught his eye on the floor below him. He paused, foot on the bottom stair as he watched his love move across the room. To the casual observer she looked steady on her feet, looked to be greeting friends and acquaintances with ease as she passed them. His observation of her, however, had never been casual. He could see that each footstep was deliberate, steadfast; she wasn’t gliding the way he knew her body could and should be. She was looking onto the eyes of everyone she passed and had either a smile or tap to the shoulder for them; she wasn’t ignoring those beneath her or gracing them with only a superior smirk as she left them in her wake. In short, this was not his Cersei.

xJCx

The air was too hot and too thick around her, she felt like she was having to physically push it aside to allow her to move through the room. The music and laughter carrying through the club fused together in her brain and created an insane medley she could here speed up and slowdown in her addled state. The drugs didn’t make her feel as they once did, the first high was long gone now and in the back of her mind she knew she would never experience anything like it again; the energy, the invincibility, the feeling she owned everyone and everything in the fucking world. It had taken only a little that first time, over time and trying to chase that illustrious feeling she had resorted to larger and more frequent amounts, coupling it with alcohol, opiates and anything else she was offered in the course of an evening.

Cersei was not a stupid woman; on the contrary, she was brilliant, she knew the lifestyle was stealing a part of her away each time she succumbed. She knew she had to stop, she would stop, as soon as she felt that rush one last time. The coke didn’t work, the alcohol didn’t work, fucking all and sundry definitely didn’t work.

Jaime.

Jaime worked, or at least he had done once. The last time she had been with him the usual adoration, awe and need in his eyes were shadowed by shame and worry. She had avoided him since that night, unable to take his pity. His judgement had made her feel inferior to him and it was a feeling she balked at. Although twins, she had always been on the higher rung, he had elevated her their entire lives and sensing his idolization shifting to judgement had stung. Their distance from each other had created a void in her, one which she attempted to fill in the arms of others. They only made her feel emptier, which led her back to the drugs, which kept her away from Jaime, which brought her to yet another man’s bed. She was in a vicious circle and would laugh at the absurdity of it all if she weren’t worried a simple laugh would send her spiralling into hysteria.

There was no need to hide her habit from prying eyes, everyone was indulging in something or other. Cersei unscrewed the small golden cylindrical pendant around her neck, catching the eyes of a small group across the room, who toasted her and cheered as she brought the container up to her nose. Deftly holding one nostril and sniffing the powder deep into her system, she held her nose tight and closed her eyes and she felt it start to work. Her energy spiked, the music started to make sense again, the air cleared and she felt lighter than it. The muscles of her mouth stretched in a smile as she felt herself climbing, climbing higher, higher still, she was almost there. The warmth was spreading, her breath quickened as she raced towards the edge of glory. Eyes still closed she held her breath and felt her heart beat harder, willing her mind to go over and find that completion one last time. It was always one last time. 

It slowed, all of it, the world was swimming back into focus and her joy plateaued with it. She almost had it, could have reached out and touched it, one more little hit before she lost it further and she was sure she would find it this time. Swiftly bringing her pendant back to her face, hoping the remnants were enough to get her there, she opened her eyes suddenly when a hand prevented her going any further. She was too far gone this time to read anything in his eyes, but she would recognise them in even the darkest of times. 

“That’s enough Cersei.” He spoke lowly but she heard him. Did she hear him? Or did she just know that voice so well she would hear him anywhere?

She tried to pull her hand free, but he held fast. “I said enough.” 

Although she hadn’t reached her nirvana she was still high enough that her recent urge to flee from his presence had been replaced by bravado and indignation. How dare he? “I say when it’s enough.” She hissed at him.

“ENOUGH.” He repeated louder, holding her hand tighter still.

His stare was unwavering and his body steadfast under her hateful eyes. The longer she held them, the more she deflated, softened in front of him. Her determination turned to uncertainty, her anger to futility and her craving for the high turned to the craving for something else. “It’s never enough Jaime.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, yet he too still heard his twin’s proclamation.

Jaime’s grip on her wrist loosened and he merely held it, stroking his thumb gently along her pulse point, feeling it race under his touch. Cersei didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the gentlest touch she had felt in weeks. Whatever spell they were falling under was broken when the lolloping gait of their younger brother could be seen lumbering towards them as quick as his little legs would allow.

“Go. Now.” He quietly commanded, his overly large eyes darting around the room. 

Jaime released Cersei’s hand and turned his attention to the suddenly nervous man in front of him. “What’s going on?” 

“Some of Father’s, let’s say acquaintances, that he named to try and get time off his sentence have got wind of it and that he’s holding this narcissistic farewell party right under their noses. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before they start arriving hoping to give him a different kind of send-off.”

“We have to warn him.” Jaime made to where his father still held court in the centre of the room, but Tyrion stopped him. 

“I will but you need to get her out of here.” He looked up at Cersei, whose eyes were once again starting to glaze over, and her jaw was falling slack. “Oh for fuck’s sake, she’s trashed.”

“She’s fine. She’ll be fine.”  
Tyrion rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to answer his older brother but was saved having to argue his point by the woman herself as she stretched a hand forward and ruffled his hair, smiling widely at him. Tyrion pursed his lips and looked up at Jaime, taking his sister’s wholly out of character affection towards him as proof she was indeed out of her mind. “Yes, she seems fine Jaime...please, she has about as much mental capacity as the beast who carts the little Stark boy up and down Broadway all day. Take her downstairs, straighten her out and leave. I will speak to Father.”

Jaime’s eyes flitted between his brother and father, searching for the right course of action. With a quick glance at their sister he knew Tyrion was right; Cersei was vacant, malleable, he needed to wake her the fuck up. With a terse nod to the youngest sibling he moved quickly through the crowd towards the stairs at the back, pulling an altogether too compliant Cersei with him.

xJCx

One of the more fucked up aspects of their Father’s club was its supposed VIP area. Most clubs restricted areas were tucked behind velvet curtains, housing the finest furnishings and private service. Studio 54’s, however, was simply the basement of the building. Jaime led Cersei down the cast iron stair case to the relative chill of the stone walls below. The vast space they found themselves in was strewn with mattresses and sofas, already occupied by couples or groups in varying states of undress doing unspeakable things to each other. Jaime dimly registered seeing the jiggling bodies of a movie star or two, some notable political figures and a rock God who had the reputation of a ladies man, tangled in the arms of two glittered men as he dragged Cersei past them all. 

He led her down a small unlit corridor away from the undulating masses and pushed her gently into one of the store rooms, locking the door. Pulling the chain for the single lightbulb he saw Cersei wince as her unfocussed eyes were assaulted by the different lighting. The room was bare and dank, old props from the club lined the walls. The door turned the music from upstairs into a dull beat and blocked the moans of those indulging outside the walls. Jaime crossed to the small sink in the corner, his footsteps echoing loudly, and looked for the cleanest receptacle he could find. He rinsed the glass out as best he could and filled it to the brim with water. 

“Drink.” He commanded, holding it out to his sister. 

She resolutely ignored him. Walking closer to her he held it up to her face. “Drink it Cersei.” He offered softer this time, “Please.”

Cersei looked for the source of the voice and tried to bring him into focus, she could feel the world speeding up around her again and for the first time in the longest time she wanted it to stop. She wanted to live in this moment, alone with her brother, her love. She reached an unsteady hand out to take it from him, missing it entirely and closing her hand on thin air. 

Jaime took in the state of her and felt something splinter in his depths. How had he allowed her to become this, this husk? How could he have stood on the side watching as she fell deeper and deeper into the abyss, kidding himself that he was at least keeping an eye on her? He could have done more, should have done more, he should have taken her away from here at the first sign she was slipping away from him. His anger consumed him in that moment; not at her. He was angry at his Father for not interceding, for not caring what became of his only daughter as long as her beauty still brought the high rollers through the door. He was angry at Tyrion for not caring until it was almost too late. He was angry at every fucking rich, entitled moron that pulled his twin into their life and out of his. Most of all he was angry at himself for letting it happen.

Gently cupping the back of her head with his free hand, he brought the glass to her mouth and tipped it slightly just enough to wet her lips. When she felt the coolness against them she parted them and took small sips. Jaime felt something burn behind his eyes as he tended to his sister like a sick child. The strongest, most formidable woman he would ever know, was reduced to a fragile little bird before him. He swore right then he would bring her back to life, he always would.

With her eyes closed Cersei brought her hands up to surround Jaime’s and began to drink greedily from the glass, choking in her haste. Jaime stroked his other hand down the waves at her back, calming her. “Slowly.” He whispered. She coughed and spluttered around the rim and he moved it away from her, wiping the wetness from around her lips with his thumb. Looking deep into her eyes he willed the fire to return to them. 

“We’re leaving Cersei.” He continued in his quiet voice. “I am taking you away from here and I am bringing you back to me.” Her recovery was as much a part of sustaining his existence as it was hers. “I need you to come back to me.” He pled, bringing her head to rest against his shoulder. 

Her hands gripped the material of his jacket and she breathed heavily in the nook of his neck as his words permeated her brain. This was what she wanted, needed. As loathe as she was to admit it she couldn’t do this alone. The very second she reasoned that she had to change her life was the same second the demon she had allowed to grip her reared its head inside and raged that she needed no one, nothing and she would never survive without placating her needs. 

“I’m going nowhere Jaime…one of us needs to be here when Father returns.” She grasped at straws, her unsteady words hollow to her own ears.

Jaime held both her shoulders and brought his head level with hers. “If and when Father returns this place will be long gone…and you along with it if you keep going as you are. I won’t let that happen.”

She smirked at him. “You want to save me brother?” She almost laughed at his knight in shining armour act.

He would not be deterred by her demeanour, knew it was a feeble attempt to push him away. Something he would never allow again. He moved his hands up to cup her face and bring it closer to his own. “I want to save us.”  
Us. The word resonated somewhere deep inside her, somewhere along the way she had forgotten what they were. Eternally bound, intrinsically a part of each other, two halves of one heart. Her heart and soul ached to be back in his arms, her head knew it was her safest place but still the voice inside screamed that her new needs were paramount. She distracted him from his mission and herself from her inner battle the only way she knew how.

Cersei exhaled her relief against his lips as she brought her own against them for the first time in too long. Her arms wound behind him, pulling at his back to press his body into hers. Jaime’s hands remained in place either side of her face, allowing her to kiss him; but for the first time in all their history, not reciprocating her actions. As much as his body longed to join hers again, Tyrion’s words rang in his head, he knew he needed to get her as far away as possible before his Father’s idiocy brought a bloodbath upon them. “We have to go Cersei, we have to go now.” He breathed against her in the small moments her lips parted from his for breath.

Her kisses became erratic, peppering his jaw, chin and cheek. Her body practically writhing in his arms. Her hands worked frantically at his waist and drew his belt off and across the room in one move. “I need you.” Her voice begged, a tone he was not used to hearing from his ever-domineering sister. Her eyes were closed and her body’s movements seemed beyond her control as she pushed him towards a small metal chair, practically climbing him as she did so. He fell into the chair with a loud thump and she wasted no time in climbing astride him.

Cersei’s eyes remained closed for one reason and one reason only; the temporary satiating of her heart and body’s desire had allowed the voice inside to scream louder. This, he, was an obstacle to what she needed. She would use her body to bring him to heel and seek what she truly needed when she had him spent. She kept her eyes closed to keep him as nothing more than an obstacle, to convince herself he was just another faceless man she had to fuck to get her fix. She knew she could never do it if she had to look into those eyes so similar to her own. 

Jaime felt his resolve weaken as his body rejoiced at being given what he had been denied too long. His head rolled back when her tongue traced the pulse in his throat and frenzied hands opened his shirt to bare his chest to her. He lifted from the chair ever so slightly, pushing his hardness against her cunt when her hands moved down to unzip him, the leverage allowing her to push his garments down just enough to allow his dick to spring free. His hands reached under Cersei’s flimsy dress and fumbled with the side of her underwear. She stood just long enough to get one leg free, grabbing his cock as she slipped back to him, forcing her body onto it. Jaime’s head snapped back up, eyes shooting open and he yelled. In pain.

She was dry. She must have been in pain too but couldn’t or wouldn’t register it as she made her body move up and down on him, his obvious agony seemingly of no consequence to her. Jaime hissed loudly in pain as she moved down his shaft and grabbed her hips tight to halt her, pushing her back on his lap and pulling out. Wide worried eyes watched her as she continued to try and move as if he were still buried inside her. “Stop. Fuck. Cersei STOP!” He shouted with increasing volume. 

Something in his voice must have reached her, she stopped moving and allowed her eyes to open for the first time. Looking down and seeing his deflating cock in front of her she grabbed it and tried to make him enter her again. Jaime kept one hand on her hip in an almost crushing grip and used the other one to grab her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “Who are you fucking right now?” he questioned lowly, eyes narrowed.

In response Cersei only turned her head slightly, bringing his fingers she could reach into her mouth and biting down with a groan. He retracted them from between her teeth and held her jaw with more force. “I asked you a question Cersei. Who are you fucking?”

Her answering silence shook him and for the first time his pity and worry for her turned into anger. He would not be put on the same level as the nameless men she had been using and used by. Not him. 

He stood abruptly, hands still gripping tight to bring her upright with him and walked closer to the wall behind him. “If you won’t see me, perhaps you’ll see yourself.” He released his hold long enough to turn her body round and resumed his previous hold on her, her back pressed against his chest. 

The ornate mirror which once graced the club’s stairway, until it had been broken in one of the many wild nights, by one of the many wild patrons, was propped against the wall in front of them. The large cracks distorted the image staring back at them, but Cersei could clearly see her brother’s eyes holding hers in their reflection. He slackened his grip on her body and ran both hands slowly to her shoulders. “Not me now Cersei. Look at you.” His voice breathed in her ear as his anger dissipated and she felt the first tickle of goose bumps rise across her neck.

Sweeping his hands across her shoulders, Jaime caught the thin straps of her dress and slid them from her shoulders. The light material dropped softly to the ground leaving her staring at her naked form in the mirror. Cersei followed her brother’s hands in the reflection as they moved over her. The backs of his fingers traced her arms and brought her attention to how slight they were. Reaching her hips, she could see how the soft curve she used to watch him hold so tightly had turned to a sharp angle of bone. 

Jaime’s heart hurt for her as he watched her eyes fill while they continued following his journey across her landscape. He wanted to stop and end her torment, but he had to make her see. He circled his hands at her waist to show her how they could almost meet around her, the once flat expanse of her stomach could almost be described as concave under his touch. His journey was slow, deliberate and still as filled with adoration as it always was; their coupling had always transcended the mere physical. Trailing higher, he felt each rib under his fingertips before cupping her breasts while she watched. He missed the weight which used to almost fill each hand, but still delighted in the smooth feel of her skin. Jaime allowed himself a small smile as he felt the puckering of nipples beneath his digits, the first real physical sign she was reacting to him. 

He placed a kiss in the crook of her neck as he allowed his hands to descend again. Cersei’s heart and breath raced as she watched him, and the drugs had nothing to do with it. The sudden zing of pain in her bottom lips was when she realised she was biting it hard in anticipation, watching him continue his trail down her abdomen and beyond, shuddering when he ghosted over the fine hair between her thighs. “Now…look at me.” Jaime told her, not asked. 

Her eyes reluctantly left the exploration before her and met his in the cracked glass. Jaime studied Cersei’s face, watching her lips part in a silent plea when his fingers delved deeper, dancing over her clit. He smiled when he felt her push against his hand, his fingers slipping easily now. Moving his gaze back to meet hers, the twins shared a look that held it all; their unending love, their boundless need, their hopes for the future. “I will never be faceless to you Cersei. I’ll never be your means to an end or just another fuck to fill a void. Do you hear me?” His voice was soft, but the words hit hard. Cersei nodded, pulling her lips into her mouth and angling her body to try and bring his fingers deeper; an entirely different need building in her now. He made perfect little circles around her clit and she squirmed against him, reaching an arm up behind her as much as she could to grasp his golden hair tightly.

Cersei could feel his cock hardening once more against her and made a strangled sound when he pushed his digits inside her, his thumb still swirling patterns against her bundle of nerves. “I’ll ask you again Cersei, who are you fucking?” 

“You.” She replied without hesitation. The fingers invading her depths coupled with the unwavering gaze he held through the mirror was almost too much. That look was more than lust, it was showing Cersei that Jaime saw her, knew her. It was a look that proved that what they shared went beyond what anyone else could ever hope to comprehend. As beautiful as both were, that was little to nothing to do with it. As much as he loved the formerly womanly curves he spent a lifetime exploring; that they were now gone in no way altered his love for her. Jaime knew her, all of her, and he loved every part; even the parts people despised her for. 

Cersei knew the man holding her body and soul in his hands was the only one who could bring her back to life. She rocked mercilessly against his hand, his other sweeping up her torso to circle a nipple in the same pattern he drew on her clit; keening loudly as she moved closer to the edge. She couldn’t take his eyes bearing into hers anymore and lowered her gaze to watch his hand disappearing between her legs, pressed against him so tightly now she could feel the blood pulse through his cock at her back. Her free hand covered his, her small fingers slipping against his as they both pleasured her cunt. 

“Who?!” He asked louder, wanting his name from her lips before she fell. He stopped his assault on her body and she made a displeased whine. “You Jaime.” He immediately resumed his motions and she lost herself in the rhythm, trying to meet his eyes to show him she knew exactly who she was fucking; her head kept falling back against his shoulder and she repeated his name over and over. “Oh fuck… it’s you…Jaime. Fuck, Jaime, Jaime, oh God I’m close.”

Jaime stopped again, there were no complaints this time as she watched him push his clothing further down his legs. He took his cock in hand as she adjusted her stance, both watching the other’s eyes widen when he slid inside her. Jaime lay his head on her back for a moment, her walls were already clenching him tight and he wanted to savour every sensation. Cersei’s impatience won out and she pressed backwards, burying him further. She circled her hips and felt accomplished when she felt his shuddered exhale against her back, gaining a control she had long lost. She watched in the mirror as he brought his hands to her hips and righted himself. There was no slow build this time, no more teasing, he took her hard and fast. She had to grip the gilded edge of the mirror to remain upright as his slams echoed in the dusty room. The twins eyes found each other again and the longer Jaime stared, the longer he kept his hands on her, the more he could see her beginning to come back to him. 

This was his Cersei. The one who rocked back forcefully, seeking her pleasure over his. The one who was holding his stare with determination, daring him to come before her. Jaime found his body was moving on its own volition, desperately seeking the release he could only find in his sister. He was loud, louder than usual, with his groans, expletives and stilted declarations of love. He didn’t fucking care anymore, let every one of those cunts outside hear them. He was getting her back and he was taking her away. Cersei scraped madly against the chipped gold of the mirror, every part of her body pulsed, begging to go over the edge. “God Jaime, make me come.” 

The slapping of their bodies was magnified when he fucked harder and deeper than he thought he could at that moment. One hand curled lower and found her clit and she was gone, she went over cursing and shaking, screaming his name. She tightened impossibly around him, Jaime felt the veins on his neck protrude, could feel burning throughout his body as he tried to fuck her through her orgasm. Prolonging it as long as his body would allow he finally pulled her hips back one last time and held them tight to him. He pushed hard against her, as deep as he could go and spilled inside her, shouting freely as he came. 

It felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room to fill their lungs after their exertion. Jaime withdrew slowly and pulled his trousers and underwear up from where they bunched at his knees. Gently turning Cersei in his arms, he bent to the floor and retrieved the dress still pooled at her feet, kissing her exposed skin lazily on his ascent, redressing her. He slipped the straps on her shoulders and moved to cup her flushed, beautiful face, the pair still panting in hot breaths over the other. “We’re going Cersei. You and me. Father has done what he said he could never do and ruined all he built. We are taking what is left and going far beyond his reach, where no one knows us. We’ll be together Cersei.”

Cersei felt the slightest moment of hesitation, knowing a long and difficult path lay ahead of them. Jaime felt her uncertainty and banished it by bringing his lips to hers, pouring everything he had into her. “I can’t lose you to this, I can’t lose you to anything.” He whispered, ending the kiss. Cersei tilted his head until his forehead touched hers and each twin grasped the other’s neck tight. “I won’t.” He vowed.

He felt her nod against him and moved to kiss her again, sealing their fate. He was halted and they both jumped at the loud thumping against the other side of the door. Reluctantly leaving the embrace, Jaime circled Cersei’s wrist and brought her with him. Swinging it open they looked out and then down into the agitated face of their younger brother. Tyrion took in their flushed appearance and felt the rush of hot air leaving the room. “Not exactly what I meant when I said straighten her out, brother.” He chastised, looking up to Cersei he saw the snarl of disdain at him daring to rebuke her. A far cry from the toothy grin she had shown him upstairs, and certainly more par for the course from his sister. “Well…it seems to have worked at any rate. Now, if you’re quite done, you need to leave.”

“You don’t tell me when-” Cersei began in ire.

“Curse me out later dear sister, you both need to get out of here. I have Sandor still on the front door, but even his gnarled old face won’t be enough to keep all of Father’s foes at bay.” He shifted his gaze to Jaime. “I don’t think Studio 54 has seen the last of bloodshed.” 

“What are you talking about? Jaime, what is he talking about?” Cersei queried, having been too high to recall anything said when they met on the dancefloor earlier.

Jaime read the seriousness in his little brother’s eyes and merely nodded at him. “I’ll explain later.” He answered his twin, still looking at Tyrion.

Cersei allowed herself to be led back to the stairs by Jaime and cast a questioning look back at Tyrion. He simply stared back at her, worry etched all over the face she had hated her whole life. She stared until his tiny body was obscured from view when they ascended the stairs. 

Jaime had dimly noted that the furnishings in the basement, filled with writhing bodies on their arrival, were all empty when they left. As they reached the top and re-entered the club their ears were assaulted with a cacophony of screams. They watched as people trampled over each other to get to the exit, heard glasses break and saw blood spill. They saw their father in the middle of the room look around in wide eyed wonder when the music screeched to a stop and gunshots could be heard outside. He saw his children across the room and made no move to tell them to get to safety, the only worry in his eyes was for himself. The trance between father and offspring was broken when the large scarred doorman bundled Tywin away to safety.

Wasting no time Jaime continued his march across the floor, clasping Cersei’s hand to keep her close. He stopped halfway to the exit when he saw the wall of people clamouring to get out. “Back way.” He snapped and abruptly changed direction. He lifted the side of one of the many bars and pulled her through, kicking bottles and debris out his way. Turning down a narrow red lit corridor behind the bar, they stepped over a partier who smiled up inanely, too wasted to realise the danger he was in.

Reaching the metal door, Jaime extended his leg and kicked the metal bar to release it. The cold air instantly assaulted them both as they stepped out into the chilled February night air of New York. The door slammed with a loud bang and they jumped at the sound, Cersei shivered at the near freezing temperature they were in after the heat of the club. Jaime saw her body shake and removed his jacket to cover her, she refused it. She greedily gulped lungfuls of the icy air, the cold awakening her. She had forgotten anything else existed outside those walls. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing out a laugh she was soon consumed by. Jaime watched her, fearing madness, but when she opened those eyes they shone. He saw the light coming back into his love and he laughed along with her obvious joy. 

He pulled her to him and kissed the mouth stretched in a smile of genuine happiness, enjoying her euphoria. Releasing her he started to walk further down the street. “So, we need to plan, where do you want to go? Do you want to travel? Should we set up a home first? Actually, before any of that we’ll need to get a car. We’ll just pick a direction and drive.” He rambled at speed, excited for the path which lay in front of them.

“Jaime.” She spoke softly and pulled at his hand, stopping him.

He turned to her and watched what looked like a hundred emotions run over her face before she once again landed on joy and smiled with glistening eyes. “We’re free.” Cersei whispered.

Jaime’s smile matched his twin’s as he took in all which those two words meant. They were together. They had the means to start anew. They had the opportunity to live their lives as one, away from scrutiny or persecution. They would be complete.

“We’re free.” He confirmed to her.

So lost in the love they openly displayed to the other, so adrift in the hopes for their future as they abandoned the shackles of their past, that the rest of the world faded around them. The screech of the tyres was muffled to their ears, the bang from behind barely startled them. The spot of crimson suddenly on Cersei’s throat only confused Jaime.

As the outside world came crashing around him, Jaime watched in horror as the spot blossomed. Cersei’s mouth moved but made no sound. Jaime lurched forward to catch her before she fell. The blood pumped out from her throat with every beat of her heart. Dropping to his knees he held her on him, wrapping his hand around the slender neck to cover the wound. “No…no…NO, Cersei, no. Come on, come on Cersei.” He pleaded through gritted teeth, golden hair falling into his terrified eyes. 

He lost his grip as the blood made his hand slip around her neck, Jaime squeezed Cersei’s throat tighter as he felt the pulsing weaken. “Cersei, stay, just stay, we’re free now…please, you have to stay.”

No pain could ever match what he felt watching the light slowly extinguish in her eyes. Nothing could compete with the torture of this life literally slipping away between his fingers. The bullets entering his lower back were mere twinges compared to the agony of all the hopes he ever had being ripped away from him in seconds.

Jaime felt his strength deplete along with Cersei’s; saw her scared, tired eyes mirror what she saw in his, knowing exactly what was happening to them. Jaime brought his lips down to cover hers one final time, tears falling on her and mixing with the blood. When he pulled back, the light was out. Her eyes were open, but Cersei no longer looked back at him. Jaime’s body shook in grief, shock and anger and he held her as close to his heart as he could. The last of his own strength diminishing, he let his body drop to the cold ground below, keeping her on his chest. 

He lay there until he was as cold and unmoving as she, the blood of the twins pooling together on the dirty New York street. His hand still around her throat.

They were free.


End file.
